


The Young Gascon Through the Years (sequel to: Angel On Their Shoulders)

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers
Genre: Gen, Sequel to Angel On Their Shoulders involving a resurrected d'Artagnan (age nine to start)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:37:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5689561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By request here it is, gang!<br/>And if the BBC can time jump during season 3, so can I (just because I can).<br/>Since Treville has maintained the story of Alex and his relationship through marriage of cousins from both sides of Treville's and d'Artagnan's families (which would make them distant cousins to ea other - it's complicated I know), Alex will be calling Treville Jean-Armand throughout the rest of this story.</p><p> </p><p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Late morning - Musketeer Garrison, Captain Treville's office_

Since Treville knew it would be questioned by his own regiment of Musketeers, Their Majesties and Richelieu on why he still had charge of Alex after a month had passed, d'Artagnan came up with the answer. So Treville found himself explaining to King Louis on the passing of Alex' parents, having perished during a violent storm on their voyage home. As there were no other close relatives to leave the lad with, Treville was designated the boy's guardian.

Head bent, studying a set of maps on his desk, Treville muttered to himself thinking upon what he had taken on in the form of one young Gascon. He wondered if he were up to the task of raising the lad. Pushing the maps aside, Treville thought that at least he had the inseparables covering his back on this.

Nine year old d'Artagnan was a handful, keeping his men on their toes. Treville and the inseparables never knew what mischief the child would get up too next.

Glancing out his window, Treville's head shot up as he saw a sight that made him shudder. " _ALEX!_ " Treville roared, hoping his voice carried out to the balcony. "Get your skinny, young ass off that railing this instant before you break your damn fool neck!" Currently, d'Artagnan was walking on the narrow top of the balcony's railing. It was a favorite pastime of the boys but one that greyed Treville's hair more than he'd like whenever he caught d'Artagnan out.

"I'm fine!" d'Artagnan hollered back, nearly unbalancing himself in the process as he whipped his head around at the sound of Jean-Armand's angry voice. Glancing downward he could hear and see a gathering of Musketeers who were watching and cheering him on. All that is except three men... _Athos_ , _Porthos_ and _Aramis_.

" _ALEX!_ " Athos kept his voice controlled after he shouted the pup's name out like that. He didn't want to make d'Artgnan lose concentration and fall; though all he wanted to accomplish in that moment was to race up those steps, grab the boy from the railing and shake some sense into that stubborn Gascon head. It appeared to him that now that their youngest was indeed _pup-sized_ , somewhere along the way d'Artagnan became more of a risk-taker than when he had been an adult.

Just that one word from Athos made d'Artagnan freeze mid turn as he heard his name called out from his friend. It wasn't hard for d'Artagnan to visualize the scowl that would be forming on the older Musketeer's face either. Realizing that his fun had come to an end, d'Artagnan nimbly jumped off from the railing to smoothly land on the deck of the balcony. He then heard pounding of several pairs of feet coming up the steps and so braced himself for the tongue lashing to come.

Hands on their hips, the inseparable's stance mirrored one another as the three Musketeers glowered down at the unrepentant d'Artagnan.

"Are you trying to give us all heart failure, petit garcon," Aramis admonished, shaking his finger at the lad.

"I should turn ya over my knee and give ya a good spankin'," Porthos growled. "Nearly took ten years or more off my life ya did."

Waiting for Athos to tear into him d'Artagnan was surprised when, instead of taking him to task, Athos strode past him and into Jean-Armand's office. Oh that can't be good, d'Artagnan worried. A moment later Athos came striding back out to stand in front of him. Brushing his bangs out of his eyes, d'Artagnan smiled shyly up at his brother. "Time for sword play?"

"Time for petit garcons to groom our horses," Athos placed a hand against d'Artagnan's back to usher the child down the steps. "Tis my hope you'll be too tired to get into anymore trouble by the time you're done," he bit off. "At least for today."

"One could live in hope," Aramis smirked, watching man and boy head for the stables.

++++

_Same day, mid afternoon after d'Artagnan had finished his chore - Porthos' apartments_

" _ALEX!_ " Porthos bellowed, water dripped down his face and onto his clothes from the bucket of water that dumped onto his head when he opened the door to his home. Clearly the whelp had to much time on his hands as d'Artagan's practical jokes were becoming legendary around the garrison and, unfortunately, to his close friends as well.

++++

_Courtyard_

Cleaning his weapons, Aramis couldn't understand how, after thinking his job was done, he'd find that they weren't as clean as he had first thought. So Aramis cleaned them all over again to only discover that the weapons still weren't done to his satisfaction. It got to the point that Aramis grew concerned over his own eyesight, thinking perhaps his vision was impaired in some way. Scratching his head, Aramis picked up his musket and started over once more.

What the sharpshooter didn't know was that d'Artagnan was hiding underneath the bench where Aramis was working. Each time his brother cleaned a weapon and placed it back on top of the bench, d'Artagnan would carefully peek out to make sure Aramis' back was to him and then grab a weapon to put dirt inside of it.

Completely exasperated at this point, Aramis abruptly stood up and out of the corner of his eye caught a small hand quickly ducking back under the bench. " _ALEX!_ "

++++

_Stables_

No one messes with Athos' horse, that is unless his name was d'Artagnan. He knew better, d'Artagnan really did, but there was a devilish imp riding on his shoulder that wouldn't let up. Roger was already saddled as Athos was getting ready to leave for patrol. Loosening the cinch slightly, d'Artagnan giggled. His mentor was in for a fall.

++++

Slowly picking himself up from the ground, Athos dusted his uniform off and adjusted his doublet. He found his hat not too far from where he had landed and picked it up to bat it against his leg a few times to remove dust that had gathered on it.

Hearing muffled laughter coming from the practice area, Athos noted Aramis and Porthos were wiping tears from their faces. Taking a moment to scan the grounds, his sharp blue eyes narrowed on a youthful body darting into the stable. " _ALEX!_ "

++ _++_

_Late afternoon - The Wren_

"Think we'll survive d'Artagnan growin' up," Porthos grabbed a mug of lager off of the tray the barkeep carried as he walked past their table.

"You mean will d'Artagnan _survive_ to see the ripe old age of ten," Aramis snorted into his wine glass.

"At the rate our young one has been plaguing us with practical jokes," Athos held his glass of wine in the air studying it, "the lad's life expectancy is in doubt."

"I woke up to see two more grey hairs in my beard," Aramis frowned.

"Grey makes you look distinguished," Athos' blue eyes gleamed with mirth.

"Ya only say that cause the whelp's already done and gone given ya more than enough already," Porthos' loud bark of laughter had other men in the tavern turning their heads to stare at him.

Nodding, Athos stared into his drink. "Tis sad but a true fact of life."

"Captain Treville told me that d'Artagnan's already become quite the favorite of Their Majesties," Aramis smiled. "It is to be hoped that the brat doesn't pull any of his crazy shenanigans whenever he's in the palace."

"Mmmmpf," Athos mumbled. "My heart bleeds for the king if visited by our petit headache."

++++

_Royal Palace_

"Where has young Alex gone off too?" Louis looked at Anne curiously. "I'm sure he was just here a minute ago," he huffed. "I was going to challenge him to a game of chess. The boy told me his father had taught him."

Soothing her disgruntled husband, Anne said, "I told Alex to make himself at home so he's no doubt exploring." She smiled pleasantly at Louis, though Anne's smile soon slipped as she became wary when hearing a loud thump coming from the outer hall. "What was that?"

"It sounded like something fell." Louis took his wife's hand and they both went to investigate, their guards closely followed behind. When they went to the outer hall, Louis heard Anne gasp.

"My beautiful tapestry!" Anne cried out in dismay. Seeing the lovely creation crumpled on the floor she noted Alex standing off to the side, a sword in the boy's hand.

"Apologies," d'Artagnan bit his lip. "I found this sword hanging on the wall over there and couldn't resist testing it," his face flushed red. "When I swung my arm out the blade cut through the cord holding your tapestry up," d'Artagnan gave Her Majesty a sheepish grin. Looking up at the king he added, "Tis a good rapier, Sire."

"It should be," King Louis smiled wryly, "it was my father's."

"Oh, Alex," Queen Anne shook her head. "Things do happen around you."

"Mmmmm," Louis hummed, looking at his wife. "Oui, I agree. Just yesterday I found Alex in the kitchen with flour all over his face as he was giving Chef Gilles a lesson in Gascon cookery," he laughed as he remembered the scene. "I'm not sure chef appreciated the mess the lad created," Louis noted Anne's lips twitching. "Pots and pans were all over the place," he wrinkled his nose up. "One couldn't help but think a battle had taken place there." Reaching out, he ruffled the boy's long hair. "You must lead my old fox a merry dance."

Grinning, d'Aragnan readily agreed. "He now blames me for all his hair loss." Hearing Their Majesties laughter, d'Artagnan felt much better. "May I help hang your tapestry back up?"

"Oh I believe our staff is more than capable of handling that detail," Queen Anne told him. Holding out her hand for the child to take, she squeezed Alex' smaller one gently to let him know she wasn't upset with him. "Let's see if we can keep you out of trouble."

"I was supposed to play chess with you, Your Majesty," d'Artagnan waited to see if King Louis still wanted to do so.

Glancing at his wife, Louis winked at her. "I will take Alex off your hands," he chuckled. "What's the worse he could do over a chess board, eh?"

"One never knows," she murmured quietly as Louis left with the boy.

++++

_Early Evening - Captain Treville's home*_

At dinner d'Artagnan filled Jean-Armand in on his visit with the king and queen.

Banging his head on the dinner table, Jean-Armand slowly lifted it back up only to glare at the young Gascon. "Tell me, were you this bad for Alexandre and Francoise growing up the first time around?"

Leaning forward in his chair d'Artagnan whispered, "I was worse."

Rubbing his forehead, Jean-Armand sighed heavily in resignation. Knowing of the years ahead he had to _not_ look forward too. "Perhaps I should invest in a wig like the one King Louis wears." Childish giggles greeted his ears, and Jean-Armand could only shake his head ruefully as the young scamp got up from the table to give Jean-Armand a great big hug.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out way longer than I thought.  
> Time jump, people.
> 
> See note at bottom.
> 
> ++++

_**Alex (d'Artagnan) age thirteen** _

_Late morning - Musketeer Garrison_

"Has anyone seen that boy?" Treville was more than tired chasing after his young charge. He didn't ever have to say the name - _Alex_ any longer as the entire garrison, and even the palace, had come to know the lad as _that boy_.

Four years had only added to the good looks of the inseparables. Though they all sported more grey in their hair and beards nowadays. Helping that process along had been d'Artagnan of course. That youngster could disappear like nobody's business and get into more trouble than the inseparables themselves managed to find.

Hearing their captain asking anyone paying the least bit of attention where d'Artagnan was happened every hour on the hour nearly everyday since the boy had reappeared into their lives. He was truly a gift from God which they all cherished. There were days though when they had to remind themselves about the _cherishing_ part when the pup nearly gave them ulcers over some of the things he'd get up to. Today was an exceptional one in that they did happen to know where the brat was and in this they could at least ease Treville's mind.

"Kid's over at Janvier's farm," Porthos offered his captain, seeing signs of relief wash over Treville's strained face. 

"What's he doing over there this time?" Treville huffed. He wasn't really upset because he knew that Janvier was laid up with a broken leg. Since d'Artagnan had grown up on a farm, the boy had offered up his services to the farmer whenever having free time in-between his own chores and practice time with the inseparables.

"Lad's over there helping Janvier with his harvest," Athos replied, also knowing that Treville wouldn't be mad at this news.

"Fine," Treville rubbed the back of his neck. "Send _that boy_ up to my office the instant he gets back."

"Ummmm, sir," Aramis stepped forward, "Alex isn't in any sort of trouble is he?"

Smiling, Treville shook his head no. "Their Majesties merely wanted him to keep the petit Dauphin company."

"I have noticed how the Dauphin trails after d'Arta-," Athos cut off abruptly at nearly blurting out their pup's true name while outside, "Alex like a worshiper." He could have kicked himself for nearly causing another headache for Treville as there were numerous soldiers milling about the courtyard this morning.

"Add Lissette, Gabriella and Louise to that list as well," Aramis grinned. They were all daughters of the few Musketeers in their regiment that were married. "Ever since last month's ball where Alex had been invited they've turned up in the strangest places following our pup."

"Alex wasn't too pleased when Louise surprised him in the stables either. Her perfume alone nearly drove our horses crazy," Athos remembered how the lad came out of the stable fuming and cursing under his breath with a tearful Louise blindly following him.

"Gotta admit that Alex is turnin' inta a mighty fine lookin' whelp," Porthos laughed as Aramis frowned. "Ya can't hold onta the title of bein' the handsomest guy around any longer, Mis. Better get used ta it."

"I remember you once telling me that grey in my beard made me look distinguished," Aramis pretended a hurt that he really didn't feel.

"Distinguished is a far cry from _handsome_ ," Porthos chuckled while Aramis blushed crimson.

"Gents," Treville tried to gain their attention back, "just make sure Alex doesn't make any detours on his way to my office when he returns." Bidding them farewell, Treville headed over to the canteen.

As the three of them watched their captain disappear into the building, the inseparables all stared at one another.

"Treville probably needs a good stiff drink," Athos commented dryly.

"Does it seem to be gettin' harder keepin' up with the kid or is it only me feelin' my age?" Porthos waited for his brothers to tease him about it, but he was surprised at the lingering silence that followed his innocent question.

"I admit that lately whenever Alex and I spar together I have found myself slower than I usually am," Athos reluctantly admitted, noting his two friends nodding their heads in agreement.

"Since you were brave enough to share that with us I might as well get this off my chest too." Aramis was perched on the corner of a bench, arms casually folded. "Last few practices Alex and I had with muskets only proved what I've been afraid of."

"I ain't seen ya scared of much," Porthos remarked, seeing Aramis grimace at his words.

"Growing old, mon ami," Aramis gave Porthos a lopsided smile. "Simply of growing old."

"In what way?" Athos saw the marksman pull another face.

"The lad hit the bullseye everytime while my shots missed their mark," Aramis stared blankly at the ground instead of looking his brothers in the eye.

"It does happen to all of us at some point," Athos didn't know if his words helped or unintentionally hurt Aramis further.

Slapping both hands on his knees, Aramis stood up, stretched his arms wide and breathed in the air. "Still tis a good day to be alive."

"That it is, mon frere," Porthos reached out to give his brother a vigorous hug.

"Hey!" a cheerful, young voice shouted. "What I miss?" Dirty face, even dirtier hair and filthy clothes, d'Artagnan resembled a ragamuffin or at worst a beggar from the Court of Miracles.

"I've seen cats drag somethin' in lookin' better than ya, whelp," Porthos chuckled, beating Aramis to the punch in ruffling d'Artagnan's long hair.

Then Athos reached out a gloved hand to slowly pick out strands of straw sticking out in every direction from the child's hair. "You didn't say you were going to be replacing Janvier's scarecrow in the fields."

"Ha! Ha!, Athos," d'Artagnan rolled his eyes. "Sooooo not funny," he pouted. "None of you were ever farmers," he brushed off the pieces of straw that floated down onto his shirt. "Tis a lot of hard labor."

"No argument from us, kid," Porthos helped brushed more straw from the pup's back. "Before ya go tearin' off to grander pastures, captin' ain't gonna want ta see ya lookin' like this."

"Guess that means Jean-Armand needs to see me now," d'Artagnan frowned, knowing he was more than disheveled and shrugged. "Tis not like he hasn't seen me dirty before." But d'Artagnan had to admit he did look a mess. Feeling a hand on his shoulder he glanced up into Aramis' face.

"The Dauphin misses your company, petit garcon," Aramis' brown eyes began to twinkle.

Before d'Artagnan could respond, he heard an annoyed voice calling him from above. When he turned toward the sound it was to see Jean-Armand waving him up to his office. "He'll have to make due with the way I look," d'Artagnan picked more straw off his person as he waved goodbye to the inseparables.

Observing the pup race up the steps, the inseparables went to arrange a hot bath and change of clothes for d'Artagnan. After all, the lad had better look presentable before showing up at the palace at least.

++++

_Early afternoon - Royal Gardens_

"They play well together," Queen Anne smiled pleasantly at her ladies-in-waiting while watching her small son chase after Alex. They were enjoying an afternoon out on the lawn where the two boys could romp around on the grass. There were a sufficient number of Red Guards, mixed with Musketeers, about the area to give them adequate protection. So the queen found no reason to worry on that score. Her husband was going to join them later after wrapping up some political business with Cardinal Richelieu.

"Aren't they the sweetest pair of children?" cooed Lady Francesca.

"As long as they are not mine they will remain _sweet_ ," Lady Isabella whispered back to her.

But not low enough as Queen Anne heard her words and placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh threatening to escape. She continued to watch the boys weave in and out between the soldiers on guard duty.

The Musketeers didn't appear bothered by the youngster's antics. Not so the Red Guards. None of them would dare lay a hand on petit Louis but Alex was fair game for them. Noting one of the Red Guards tripping the older boy so that Alex fell hard to the ground, Queen Anne was displeased. But then of course the Red Guard did it in such a manner as to make it appear as if Alex was the one to stumble and fall entirely on his own. Deciding if she should make a fuss or not the matter was taken out of her hands by her son.

Petit Louis adored Alex and the young Gascon could do no wrong in his young eyes. Louis knew what the Red Guard had done to his friend and he wouldn't stand for it. Walking up to the guard who had dared do such a thing, Louis kicked the man as hard as he could in the leg. He grinned as the guard hobbled on his good leg, howling in pain. A mutinous expression was on his young face as he glared at the man. "That's for knocking down Alex!" He left the humiliated guard behind and marched away, mumbling the entire time about _bad Red Guards_. Reaching Alex' side Louis was still angry. "I like Musketeers much better."

"So do I, petit sire," d'Artagnan whispered back, not wanting anyone to think he was trying to sway Louis into trusting the Musketeers over the cardinal's Red Guards. "My thanks for defending me."

Holding out his smaller hand, Louis took Alex'. "Let's play some more," he scowled over at that same Red Guard, "but away from them."

Laughing together the children continued playing their games closer to where the Musketeers stood at attention near the queen.

++++

_Late afternoon - Garrison courtyard_

Sitting on top of the bench's tabletop, d'Artagnan scanned the crowded area. Musketeers were all over the courtyard, either practicing or training younger recruits. Right now d'Artagnan was waiting for Athos so they could spar. In the meantime he stole an apple from the canteen and was eating it when something suspicious caught his eye.

Spying someone he had never seen before lurking around the courtyard, d'Artagnan went on alert. He always did have a knack for feeling when something bad was about to happen and this time was no exception. Tossing his apple core off to the side d'Artagnan hopped off the table and decided to follow the lone figure.

Silently d'Artagnan became the stranger's shadow until the man slipped inside one of the garrison armories. Knowing something was dreadfully wrong, he was afraid to leave the area to get help for fear of losing sight of the man. A few minutes passed by as he waited and then the man came back out with a filled burlap sack.

Still following him, d'Artagnan quickly realized where they were both heading - the Royal Palace. This was not going to happen if he had anything to do about it and with that thought in mind d'Artagnan reached into his back pocket and took out his weapon... a _sling shot_.

He was never without the sling shot after Porthos had made it for him. With careful aim d'Artagnan pulled back on it and let the medium-sized rock he had collected fly towards his target, hitting the man on the back of his head.

Falling to the ground unconscious, the stranger's sack spilled open and all the contents poured out. There were enough weapons and explosives in it to start his own war.

Running over to where the man laid, d'Artagnan picked up the sack and placed the weapons back inside of it. Looking around him he spotted several Musketeers rounding the corner and hailed them over. When they reached him, d'Artagnan explained everything. Handing over the sack to Byron, d'Artagnan felt Hugo's hand on his back.

"What did you use on him to knock him out?" Hugo eyed the blood on the back of the man's head curiously.

Ducking his head shyly, d'Artagnan muttered something so low that Hugo had to bend down to hear it. When he did, the Musketeer burst out laughing. "Seems like young David here slew yonder Goliath."

"Perhaps we should talk Captain Treville into adding _sling-shots_ to our arsenal from now on." Byron clapped the lad on the back. "Well done, Alex."

++++

_Captain Treville's office_

Later, d'Artagnan found himself in front of a very proud Jean-Armand.

"Even though you should have gone for help, lad, you used your wits," Jean-Armand chuckled when d'Artagnan held up his weapon of choice, "and your sling shot."

"Eh, what's this we just heard about the whelp bashin' some canaille's head in with that sling shot I gave 'em?" Porthos strode into the office first with Athos and Aramis close behind.

So d'Artagnan explained the events of the day to them and got a different reaction from the inseparables than he had expected.

Aramis looked into a mirror hanging on the wall, fingers running through his dark curls. "Oui," he said sadly. "I count ten more grey hairs."

Plunking down on the nearest chair, Athos closed his eyes. "Perhaps containing the child in Treville's house for the duration until he at least reaches the age of maturity would improve our own health and wellbeing."

"Ain't ever gonna 'appen," Porthos snorted. "Whelp was actin' and doin' crazy stunts like this when 'e was only twenty one."

"And since _maturity_ is a state of mind," Aramis pointed out, "I fear we'd be in for a very long wait, Athos."

"Tis only a suggestion," Athos glowered back at the sharpshooter.

Rolling his eyes, d'Artagnan glared at the inseparables. They were the last people to talk about _maturity_ in his presence. "Pots meet kettle." Of course all three of his brothers ignored him.

"Gents," Treville grinned, "welcome to my world."

++++

_Note:_

Found out something interesting. Just a little tidbit which all of you may or may not know. We all know Dauphin is French but what I didn't know was that it means _dolphin_. I always wondered why Dauphin sounded like dolphin but never put the two together. Anyway it's a reference to the depiction of the dolphin on their coat of arms. Having never paid attention to the coat of arms before is probably why I didn't know _flipper_ was on it (grins). History lesson over for today.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See notes below.
> 
> ++++

_Alex (d'Artagnan) age sixteen_

As the years progressed, time did not stand still as d’Artagnan grew older. Cardinal Richelieu had since passed away with many Parisians claiming the cardinal had worn out his heart in the service of France. That _claim_ remained to be seen, at least by the Musketeers.

Also during the interim Captain Treville’s status was elevated to that of Minister of War with the threat of Spain looming over the country. Which left vacant his captaincy position to be filled. He coerced a very reluctant Athos to step into his old shoes. It had taken the younger man time but it ended up being an easy transition for the former Comte de la Fere.

It ended up that Athos was constantly being teased by Porthos, Aramis and young d’Artagnan. They said they were already used to being bossed around by Athos when he had been a lieutenant, so there was no difference just because of his change of rank. D’Artagnan also enjoyed telling his mentor not to get a bigger head than Athos already had. Which had d’Artagnan scurrying out of Athos’ apartment with the older man giving chase.

If the transitions for Treville and Athos had gone fairly easy during the past three years, the monarchy’s was anything but. This past year, in which d’Artagnan finally turned all of sixteen, created further grey hairs amongst his family and friends. Added on top of that, King Louis succumbed to Tuberculosis that had befallen him, eventually leading up to his death.

A great sadness filled the entire garrison at the loss of their king. None more so than d’Artagnan who had developed a close relationship to Their Majestys since his return to the living. He became almost a constant companion now to the Dauphin. One could rarely be seen without the other. Some of the Musketeers had dubbed them _inseparables II_.

The only good thing, if you could call it that, from King Louis’ passing was that the former captain and the inseparables no longer had to worry about His Majesty remarking upon the extraordinary resemblance Alex had to d’Artagnan. For now the lad began to resemble the man he had been when d’Artagnan had been killed saving Aramis’ life. One only had to look at the boy’s face to see it. Of course after seven years, as d’Artagnan had predicted, any Musketeers that would have picked up on it had either been killed in service to France or had retired and moved away.

Queen Anne had been declared Regent and counted on the wise council of Treville, Athos and a few trusted advisers to help during her rule until the Dauphin would become of age to take over. Of course she also listened to the sound advise Porthos or Aramis would often share with her. The majority of the men Queen Anne had to deal with left her thinking that they were imbeciles and she treated them accordingly.

Shortly after the passing of Queen Anne’s husband, d’Artagnan had needed to speak with her. What the boy imparted left her reeling. Though now some things started to make a great deal of sense when Queen Anne took the time to dwell on it. Her heart swelled with love all the more for the youngster she had known these past years and who had become like an older brother to her son Louis. Understanding filled her knowing the lad had to explain who he truly was now. The more years that passed, the more _d’Artagnan_ emerged pushing his identity of Alex to the side. Now that Queen Anne knew the whole story, she could only feel relief that her wits were still in tact.

++++

_Mid afternoon - Royal Palace, Minister's room  
_

“Where’s that damn boy this time?” Minister Treville exchanged a wry grin with Athos.

“From what I understood the queen to say,” Aramis held back his amusement, “the young Dauphin has been helping d’Artagnan dodge the attentions of Louise.”

A bark of laughter erupted from Porthos at that. “Can’t believe Louise hasn’t givin’ up the chase yet,” he shook his head. “Some women just can’t take a hint.”

“A more determined female I have yet to encounter,” Aramis grinned. “Our pup better watch out or she may yet catch him unawares.”

“Ah the joy of youth," Athos darkly chuckled. "I remember it not so fondly."

"Did ya need d'Art for somethin' important?" Porthos asked, watching the captain grimace.

"I have to bring him to the tailor's again," Treville griped. "I swear that lad grows like a weed."

Realizing the expense their captain had taken on in rearing d'Artagnan, Athos along with Porthos and Aramis had been digging into their own funds trying to help Treville out whenever they could. Banking his own money for a rainy day, Athos didn't think it could get any rainier than a sixteen year old lad going through clothes like nobody's business. "Do not trouble yourself this time," Athos smiled at their captain's relieved features. "I will take care of it this time."

"You know I really appreciate this," Treville's look took in all three men. "It just doesn't sit well with me letting all of you help out in this manner."

"Come, come, sir," Aramis tutted, "we're d'Artagnan's family when it all boils down to it."

"Right," Porthos firmly nodded. "And family sticks together," he winked. "At least this family does."

"Here! Here!" Aramis crowed. "Shame we don't have any wine to drink to that."

"Ah!" Treville laughed, digging out a bottle of a fine vintage of wine he had hidden in the bottom desk drawer. Holding it up, he waggled it in the air. "Saved this for special occasions."

"Tis special enough," Athos went to get the glasses that were kept in a cupboard in the far corner.

"I am a might thirsty," Porthos smacked his lips. "Could use somethin' about now to wet my whistle." Feeling a hearty slap to his back, he twisted his head around to stare into a pair of amused dark eyes.

"You never need an excuse to wet your whistle, mon ami," Aramis took a proffered glass of wine from Treville and then took another off the officer to hand it to Porthos.

All four men raised their glasses to one another.

"Here's to surviving another year with d'Artagnan," Treville offered up as a toast of sorts.

"Amen brother!" Aramis added, observing the growing smirks on his friend's faces.

++++

_Hiding out somewhere in the Royal Palace_

"Louis," d'Artagnan hissed, gaining the Dauphin's attention, "did Louise leave yet?"

"I don't believe I've seen her for the past twenty minutes that we've been hiding from her," Louis' eyes were full of mischief. He delighted in watching Alex playing hide and seek with the pretty Musketeer's daughter.

Hearing that note of amusement in Louis' voice, d'Artagnan sent the other boy a look full of menace. "Just you wait until you get older, Louis," he snapped. "You'll be running around in circles too trying to get away from girls you're not interested in."

"Unfortunately all I have to look forward too is an arranged marriage," Louis knew what lay ahead of him when he eventually ran the country.

"Not necessarily so," d'Artagnan disagreed. "Your mother may not push you into one like she had been."

"Perhaps you are right," Louis craned his neck to see if the coast was clear. "I'm too young to think about those things anyway."

"I only brought it up because you're getting way too much enjoyment watching me trying to shake Louise off," d'Artagnan growled.

"A growing boy has to get his fun anywhere he can," Louis chuckled as his best friend stuck his tongue out at him. "Now is that anyway to act toward your future king?"

"If that _future king's_ name begins with Louis," d'Artagnan huffed, blowing a piece of hair out of his eyes, "then oui."

"Alex, don't ever change," Louis told him happily, "for I wouldn't know how to act toward you if that ever occurred." Louis was only 11 years old but very worldly for his young years. His only true friend was Alex and Louis would never risk doing anything to jeopardize their friendship.

"I don't plan too," d'Artagnan grinned wickedly. "Now then," he took one more look around the area, "I believe she may have given up."

As both boys finally stepped out of hiding, they heard a female voice calling out.

"Oh there you are, Alex!"

++++

_Still mid afternoon, later at the tailors_

"Really," d'Artagnan rolled his eyes dramatically, "why do I have to go through this all the time?"

Alerion, the tailor, made a face as the boy kept fidgiting making him accidentally poke the lad with a needle as he was trying to do a fitting.

"Hey!" d'Artagnan yelled, "that's my skin you're jabbing... not the cloth!"

Clearing his throat, Athos pinned the pup with a quelling look. "Tis not his fault. If you would simply stand still long enough you wouldn't risk getting pricked."

"Was more than a _prick_ , Athos," d'Artagnan whined. "Sir, are you done yet?" he glared at the tailor.

"I wish I were," Alerion grumbled under his breath.

"One more thing you need, Alex," Athos walked over to a rack of chapeaus, picking out one that he thought would compliment the lad's Gascon coloring. He remembered that none of them could ever get their young friend to wear one the first time around, but Athos thought that perhaps this time things could be different. But when he swung around, new hat in hand, Athos noted d'Artagnan's horrified gaze lock on to that of the innocent chapeau as if it were a rattle snake. "I guess some things will never change," he sighed and placed the chapeau back on the rack.

"Finished!" Alerion announced with relief. "Athos, you may pick the garments up by the end of this week."

"Excellent," Athos clapped the man on the shoulder. "Many thanks, Alerion." With a nod at the brat, he and d'Artagnan left the tailor's business.

++++

_Late in the day - Garrison canteen_

"How is the fair Louise, Alex?" Aramis, knowing others could hear them, kept up the charade not calling the lad by his true name. As embarrassed color bloomed on the boy's cheeks, Aramis chuckled softly.

"Could we steer this conversation away from females tonight?" d'Artagnan tried his best to fill his empty mug of coffee with some wine but every time he reached for the carafe on their table d'Artagnan got his hands slapped for his efforts. Pouting, he glared at the inseparables. "You do know I'm nearly eighteen?"

" _Nearly_ doesn't mean you are there yet, pup," Athos pushed the carafe further away from the child's eager hands.

"When I was this age," d'Artagnan glanced around the room to make sure no one could hear them speak but he spoke low just in case, "the first time, papa let me have the occasional sip of wine."

"Sure 'e did, whelp," Porthos laughed, sipping from his own glass.

"Why don't any of you ever believe me?" d'Artagnan loudly complained.

"I haven't the slightest idea," Aramis stared into the boy's annoyed face and winced. For he remembered growing up in a warm family home as well. Stealing a sip of wine every so often when it was served at dinner. "Athos, perhaps just this once," Aramis tipped his head to the side, his eyes beseeching that of his older brother.

Seeing the shiny eyes of their pup, Athos relented and reached for the empty glass to his right. He filled it only halfway and with one finger pushed it over to where d'Artagnan sat.

Pleased at this brief victory, d'Artagnan beamed at his brothers.

++++

_Next day, early morning - Garrison courtyard_

"Porthos, that's the second time you've done that to me," d'Artagnan picked himself off the ground and limped over to the bench.

"Where ya goin', whelp? I ain't done with ya."

"You might not be done but I sure am," d'Artagnan laid his head down on his arms as he collapsed.

"Practice not going quite the way you expected?" Aramis sat down beside their youngest.

"Tis frustrating trying to regain all my knowledge I used to have and apply it all over again," he lifted his head up to look at Aramis. "With Porthos sometimes tis like I am a beginner. It feels like I have little to no strength at all against him."

"Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will," Aramis placed a gentle hand on top of d'Artagnan's head, carding his fingers through the boy's hair. "A _will_ which you have more than enough of, mon Gascon garcon."

With that pep talk in his head, d'Artagnan braved Porthos in the center of the courtyard once more. This time he came out the victor, having slipped like an eel out of the huge Musketeer's hold, leaving Porthos empty handed. Hearing Aramis clapping in the background, d'Artagnan turned around to give the marksman a thumbs up. When he faced Porthos again, it was to find his friend smiling at him in approval.

++++

_Noon time - Royal Palace stables_

"Come, Louis," d'Artagnan urged. Zad had been ready to take off minutes ago.

"Palomo seems a bit skittish," Louis explained after finally getting on top of his mount.

"Once Palomo moves those powerful legs of his you won't be able to stop him," d'Artagnan rode abreast of Louis as they came out of the stables together.

"Shame that we're stuck on palace grounds," Louis frowned. "What I wouldn't give to be able to go outside of Paris to really let Palomo fly."

"Then we'd have to have your guards along and they'd never catch us," d'Artagnan reminded the other boy.

"Mother would have a fit," Louis whistled.

"And then some," d'Artagnan agreed, urging Zad to pick up speed. "First one back to the stables has to eat the fish chef is serving for lunch."

"Yuck!" Louis shuddered. "I hate the way he prepares it." Still, it was a challenge and it gave Louis momentum to set Palomo at a furious pace.

As the boys raced around the palace, Palomo's hoof got caught in a hole. Before Louis could be thrown, d'Artagnan brought Zad close enough for him to reach out and grab Louis from Palomo's back.

Clinging to d'Artagnan and shaking like a leaf, Louis hugged his arms around his friend's waist holding on for dear life. "Thank... thank you, Alex."

Slowing Zad down, until his mount came to a halt, d'Artagnan caught his breath. "Best we see to your horse, Louis."

Both boys dismounted and raced over to where Palomo had fallen.

After checking the horse for injuries, they were joined by other Musketeers and Red Guards who had seen what had transpired. Louis brushed their concern away with a wave of his hand. "I'm fine. Alex saved me but Palomo's injured his leg."

"Alex, why don't you see that Louis gets back to the palace," Briar waved a fellow Musketeer over to help him with the horse while more Red Guards swarmed around young Louis.

"So much for our race," Louis griped while trudging along side Alex, the latter leading Zad by his reins.

"There'll be other races," d'Artagnan glanced back over his shoulder at where Palomo laid. "I'm more concerned about your horse."

"Oui," Louis' agreed, "but he'll have the best tending to him," he turned worried eyes on Alex. "I'm more concerned about what mother's going to say when she finds out."

Placing his arm around the younger boy's shoulders, d'Artagnan tried to cheer Louis up. "Simple really," he grinned cheekily. "Just tell her I saved you."

"Mother dotes on you," Louis laughed. "She'll be happy to see me in one piece and probably bestow upon you a medal for saving me."

Ruffling Louis' hair and nudging the youngster in the side, d'Artagnan chuckled. "I can live with that if you can."

++++

_Note:_

I’ve no idea how old the Dauphin was when his father died so I’ve made up the Dauphin’s age to suit my storyline.  
The real King Louis XIII did indeed pass away from Tuberculosis May 14, 1643.  
Also I am assuming, especially since we are currently waiting for season 3 to begin, that Treville will be working out of the Royal Palace. Unless they give him a separate office someplace else. So until it's clarified, I've put him in the palace.  
The quote: _Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will_... is from Gandhi.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Alex (d'Artagnan) age nineteen_ **

++++

_Afternoon - Royal Palace, throne room_

Having just come from the palace kitchen, where d'Artagnan had begged prettily for some freshly baked creme brulee from one of the lovely young maids, he was passing the throne room when he heard sounds of arguing. D'Artagnan wasn't afraid of jumping into the thick of things, especially now that he had been involved with the inseparables on missions again after turning eighteen. His skills were finely honed once more and he put them to good use.

There were no Red Guards or Musketeers around the entrance and that was telling in itself, so carefully approaching the door d'Artagnan only opened it a crack. What he saw then made him close his eyes tightly thinking that what was happening was impossible. But upon opening them again, d'Artagnan realized that the queen's life and that of Louis were indeed in jeopardy. Help wouldn't be coming from Jean-Armand either as he could see the older man was incapacitated with his hands being tied behind his back.

Furiously thinking, d'Artagnan knew there was another way to gain entrance to the throne room. Quietly shutting the door, he headed down the east wing to where one of many secret entrances were hidden. He and Louis had played many a game of hide and seek throughout the palace so it was an easy thing for d'Artagnan to locate the passageway.

Taking the winding stairs up to the balcony, d'Artagnan finally got to the top. Slipping inside the opening, he crouched down on all fours and listened in.

++++

_Down below in the throne room_

Minister Treville was trussed up and could be of little aid to Queen Anne or Louis, no matter how hard he struggled against his bonds. The Musketeers and Red Guards on duty had been rendered senseless or killed and had been tossed into a corner like so much garbage. So Treville couldn't look for aid from that quarter. Frustration built up inside him not believing that this could be taking place. "What do you want?" he growled at the bastards standing smugly in front of the queen.

"What we want," one of the men snarled, "is to rid ourselves of a Spanish queen."

Up until now Queen Anne had kept silent, but having been regent since the death of her husband she could not let this threat go unanswered. Standing tall, on top of the dais, Queen Anne looked the malandrin square in the eyes. "Aside from removing me what else is behind this?" she waved a hand toward the other group of men standing beside their leader.

"Tis a simple thing, Your Majesty," he snickered. "The people will rule now. We've been hurting long enough."

"Things have improved since the death of my king surely?" Queen Anne frowned upon hearing these words from one of her subjects. She had thought that between herself and Treville they had improved the lives of the people of France greatly. Apparently not from what she was hearing. Though she remembered past words Queen Anne had once told her husband. There would always be malcontents and apparently that was what she was dealing with now.

"What do you intend to do with us?" Louis piped up. Hanging around Alex had given Louis a confidence in himself that proved most useful on the odd occasion. If they intended on hurting his mother they'd have to go through him first. Bravery was one of the major things Louis learned from Alex. His best friend would be proud of him, he was sure.

"So the petit sire speaks," the man mockingly bowed before the child. "What are you now? All of fourteen?"

"Oui," Louis nodded stiffly, thinking his age shouldn't be of consequence.

"You're still a sniveling pup," the man's harsh laughter rang throughout the room. "For your benefit I will introduce my self," he heard his men's snickers and a broad grin spread over his features. "Travaris is what they call me."

"I repeat, Monsieur Travaris," Louis' brown eyes hardened, "what are your plans now that you've incapacitated our men?"

"Why the only thing that will satisfy my people," Travaris' face darkened, "your deaths."

++++

_Back Up in the balcony_

That was all d'Artagnan had to hear and he went into action. It would have been preferable to have had the inseparables with him, but one couldn't ask for another miracle and expect it to happen. His sharp eyes latched onto the huge tapestry decorating the throne room. It was located directly behind the dais where both Queen Anne and Louis stood.

It was a good thing that d'Artagnan never was without his main gauche, pistol or sword as all three weapons were on his person. What he was about to do would be considered suicide by some and brilliant by others. Hearing Athos' sarcastic voice in his head, d'Artagnan smiled ruefully. He thought back to when Aramis had been trying to save an innocent babe's life and Athos' remark back then about _keeping everything suicidal_.

Taking out his main gauche, d'Artagnan came out of hiding to ram the blade into the tapestry with his right hand. As it sliced through the cloth he made a rapid descent, while his main gauche ripped through the material. In his left hand he held a pistol and with deadly aim managed to bring down the shocked leader and several men on either side of the man.

In the meantime, the few Musketeers that weren't maimed or killed had their wits about them now and were able to take care of the other malandrins. By the time d'Artagnan's feet touched the ground, he had killed four of the intruders. Someone had finally freed Jean-Armand and the older man was quickly barking out orders left and right.

Approaching Queen Anne, d'Artagnan knelt before her. Feeling a gentle touch to his head he lifted it up to stair into a pair of loving eyes. "You are not hurt?" his eyes slid to Louis' making sure his best friend was not harmed either.

"Thanks to your spectacular display of acrobatics Louis and I are both fine, Alex." Queen Anne took the young man's chin in her hand and tilted his face upward. "This will go down in history you know." Hearing her son's chuckles, a small smile broke out on her own face. "Wait until the inseparables hear what they have missed by being out on assignment."

Laughing, and in awe of his older friend, Louis slapped Alex on the back. "By the time Athos, Porthos and Aramis return your daring deed will have grown out of all proportion."

"Speaking of which," Treville growled, placing a hand against d'Artagnan's neck and squeezing gently, "that had to have been the most hairbrained scheme of a rescue I had ever encountered and to which I have surely now gone bald."

"Hardly, Minister," Queen Anne's eyes sparkled taking in the fact that Treville's hair was still there, well mostly. Turning around she stared at the huge tear in the once lovely tapestry. "I was getting tired of that old thing anyway. Alex just gave me an excuse to purchase a new one."

"You know you've gone and done it this time, mon ami," Louis grinned.

Casually shrugging, d'Artagnan pursed his lips. "Just doing my duty."

"Above and beyond I'd say," Louis winked at Alex. "This is going to be cause for a celebration."

"Oh I don't think so," d'Artagnan disagreed fervently but one look at Queen Anne conversing with Jean-Armand, and the way they kept looking back at him, told d'Artagnan that the queen was probably already making arrangements to award him with something. He could do without another medal though. For the ones he had collected throughout the years were just gathering dust in a chest he kept.

"I really can't wait for the inseparables to hear about this," Louis crowed, secretly laughing at Alex' reaction.

Shuddering, d'Artagnan pulled a face. "Athos will kill me," he huffed. "And that's before Aramis and Porthos get their hands on me."

Patting Alex on the back, Louis' mischievous grin was back in place. "Now, now, it won't be as bad as you think, mon frere," he chuckled. "After all you're a hero... again."

Rolling his eyes, d'Artagnan's eyes narrowed on his friend. "I worry when you come of age and finally claim the throne. I really do," he waved a finger at Louis.

"Tis not so far away now, Alex, so you better watch out," Louis warned.

Folding his arms, d'Artagnan looked at Louis thoughtfully. "Watch out for what pray tell?"

"I'll shower you with so many medals you won't be able to hold your head up." That being said, both Louis and Alex went over to help several Musketeers take care of the remaining wounded or deceased soldiers.

++++

_Late afternoon - Canteen_

"He did WHAT?" Athos roared, slamming down his mug of lager so hard on the table that most of the liquid sloshed out of it.

"Tis all over the garrison," Garen proudly announced, he had long taken over for Serge who had passed away awhile ago. "That boy is going to do Her Majesty proud. You mark my words." Trotting off into his kitchen, Garen went back to work kneading more dough for fresh bread.

"I thought we taught the lad _self preservation_ ," Aramis tilted his head to the side and then winced. He was one to talk. Aramis was known for pulling even crazier stunts. But he will admit nothing could top what d'Artagnan had done in saving the queen's life and that of her son.

"Maybe I better have a few words with that youngin'," Porthos spoke gruffly with a sideways glance over at Athos who was still quietly seething.

"I know I should be handling this better than I am," Athos drank deeply from his re-filled mug, "but the thought of him alone with all those malandrins..." his voice choked off.

Coming back to their table, with flour covered hands, Garen served them their hot meals. "I hear Queen Anne's going to have something special planned for Alex tonight and everyone in the garrison is invited to attend." Wiping hands on his apron Garen added,  "So you three best eat up in a hurry and get cleaned up."

"Got our marchin' orders," Porthos grunted, hearing Garen happily telling others in the canteen about tonight's festivities.

"By all means let's do eat," Aramis glanced down at his dirty leathers. "I for one will not make an appearance before Her Majesty with clothes that look like they have come out of a dust bin."

"Can't have that," Athos mused as he dug into his food hungrily. "Tis probably just another medal like all the others our pup has collected."

"That chest of the whelp's is gonna be a might filled," Porthos spooned some stew into his mouth and began to chew.

"Something to boast about in his old age," Aramis wriggled his brows. Tucking into his own meal he thought tonight would be an excuse to wear his new chapeau.

++++

_Early evening - Royal Palace, throne room_

Everyone was gathered together. Since the entire garrison had been invited, Queen Ann had put all Red Guards on duty so that her Musketeers could enjoy d'Artagnan's moment to shine. Queen Anne's eyes flit to the side, encompassing her two youngsters. For d'Artagnan had become like a second son to her these past years.

Observing the way d'Artagnan was fidgiting, she nearly felt sorry for him. The lad probably thought Queen Anne was about to bestow upon him another medal. But if she had prepared him ahead of time her grand surprise would have been spoiled. Queen Anne was nearly dancing in her excitement for d'Artagnan.

Receiving a signal from Minister Treville, Queen Anne regally nodded her head and raised a hand, gaining everyone's attention. "As all of you have heard by now the attempt on my life and that of my son's was foiled by the quick thinking actions of our resident Gascon...Alex."

Thunderous applause rocked the throne room and had d'Artagnan ducking his head with shyness, his cheeks blooming with color. Louis didn't help matters any by whispering in his ear.

"Suck it up, Alex," Louis nudged him in the ribs, "you more than earned this accolade."

"I was only..." d'Artagnan never got to finish, scowling at the finger waving back and forth in front of his face as Louis dared to laugh at him.

" _Doing your duty_ ," Louis rolled his eyes, "I know all that. Now listen to what mother's about to say you stubborn Gascon."

"Alex, come here," Queen Anne asked, watching the youngster shuffle his feet until he stood in front of her. Bending she whispered into his ear, "Tis not another medal." Seeing d'Artagnan's eyes widened in surprise, Queen Anne chuckled. Turning around Minister Treville handed her a gleaming sword. When she faced d'Artagnan, Queen Anne thought the boy was about to faint. "Please kneel, Alex."

Obeying automatically, d'Artagnan found himself on his trembling knees. An overwhelming feeling of deja vu filled him. The roaring in his ears drowned out the rest of her words, but the feel of steel on each shoulder told him Queen Anne had officially announced to the garrison and the world that d'Artagnan was once again a fully fledged Musketeer. Or should he say that _Alex_ was now one?

Feeling her arms around him in a warm embrace, d'Artagnan laid his head on Queen Anne's shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered and felt her kiss the top of his head.

"What good is a queen if she can't do things like this," Queen Anne's eyes shone with pride. "Now turn around and go to your friends," she stared at the inseparables curiously, noting their anxious faces. "I'm not quite sure if they're going to congratulate you or scold you for your daring deed."

"Honestly," d'Artagnan glanced briefly at his brothers, "I'm not sure either." Bowing he backed away from her, caught Louis laughing at him again, and went to be greeted by the inseparables.

Plucking at an imaginary loose thread on d'Artagnan's doublet, Aramis smirked. "So, not another medal then?"

"Uh," d'Artagnan smiled helplessly.

"A Musketeer again, whelp," Porthos hugged him.

"Er," d'Artagnan grinned sheepishly and then found himself face to face with Athos, the latter's face was as blank as a clean slate.

"All the wine in the world is never going to stop me worrying over you," Athos calmly announced. "Still I have never been more proud than when we were told of what you had accomplished," he hugged the younger man tightly in his arms. "Well played, pup."

Completely at a loss for words, d'Artagnan's eyes began to water and he hid his face in Athos' shoulder. Feeling the other strong hands of his brothers on his back, d'Artagnan sighed and mumbled something they didn't understand.

"Eh, whelp?"

"Jean-Armand complained he's now gone totally bald," d'Artagnan's shoulders shook with mirth as he pulled away from Athos.

"Funny," Porthos squinted his eyes looking at the minister, "got hair as far as I can tell."

"Pfft! Do not worry about Treville," Athos remarked wryly, "concern yourselves, mes freres, with the fate of our own hair. For I swear I see toupee's in our future."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See notes below.
> 
> ++++

**_Alex (d’Artagnan) age twenty one_ **

_Mid afternoon - Royal Palace_

Having been declared of age at sixteen, Louis took his rightful place as the monarch of France. His coronation was attended by all the nobles and dignitaries of the land. But the people who meant the world to the young king stood beside him on the dais.

On Louis’ right was his mother, Queen Anne, and to his left was the older brother of his heart, Alex. Minister Treville stood slightly behind him and his Musketeer honor guard was at attention off to the side consisting of Athos, Porthos and Aramis. This was Louis’ family and he shared the joy of this moment with them all.

++++

“King Louis,” d’Artagnan gathered his best friend into his arms for a warm hug. Pulling back, but with a hand on each of young king’s shoulders, d’Artagnan studied his best friend. “Has a nice ring to it, eh?”

“To tell you the truth,” Louis leaned his shoulder against Alex’, “even though I’ve been schooled my entire life for this day I’m afraid,” he laughed softly. “Isn’t that silly of me?”

“Non,” d’Artagnan’s face reflected his love for the boy. “Running the country is a serious responsibility,” he slapped Louis proudly on the back, “of which I’m positive you will do an excellent job of it,” d’Aragnan glanced over his shoulder at Queen Anne who was chatting with several individuals, none of whom he recognized. “You have had a prime example of leadership in your own mother.”

“Fine time for me to get cold feet, eh?” Louis shared a fond look with Alex and then took his friend by the arm. “Come,” Louis tugged on Alex' doublet prodding him on, making the older boy stumble forward slightly.

“Where are you taking me, Louis?” D’Artagnan continued to be dragged clear across the room until Louis came to an abrupt halt.

“See those girls over in that corner,” Louis nodded his head in the general direction of the giggling young ladies.

Folding his arms, a cross look came over d’Artagnan’s face. “What of them?” He had a bad feeling Louis was up to one of his sometimes impractical tricks.

“Mother has been parading them in front of me for the past week,” Louis threw Alex a sly look. “Tis only fair I share in my misfortune.”

Placing his hand on Louis’ one shoulder d'Artagnan patted it gently, shaking his head no. “I haven't any desire to _share_ in your _good fortune_ , mon frère," d'Artagnan emphasized his words with a twinkle in his brown eyes.

“Aren’t you the least bit interested in any of them, Alex?”

“I’m not ready for romantic entanglements of that nature,” d’Artagnan retorted. “Aside from the occasional liaison, which has been a rare thing of late, I like things just the way they are.”

“You’re not ready… but I'm supposed to be?” Louis’ voice cracked as it rose in volume, making Alex laugh and causing Louis to blush furiously. “You're older than me!” he cried out indignantly.

“Ah!” d’Artagnan chuckled at Louis’ slight temper tantrum. They were always few and far between but whenever the boy threw them, d’Artagnan delighted watching everyone stand far away. It reminded him of when Louis' father used to do the same thing. “But what you fail to see is that I’m not the one destined to rule all of France, needing a queen by my side."

Sighing, Louis knew his friend had the right of it and said as much. “You do have a valid point as usual.”

“Besides I’m too busy concentrating on being the best Musketeer I can be.”

“If it helps,” Louis grinned, “you’ve surpassed being _best_ simply ages ago.”

“Your vote doesn’t count,” d’Artagnan smiled, “only because you’re prejudiced.” He mockingly bowed adding, “But I won’t hold that against you, sire.”

Wrinkling his nose up as he was wont to do, Louis waved his hand in the air. “Don’t you start calling me _sire_ again. I hear enough of that as it is from everyone else.” Wanting to change the subject Louis said, “I hear Aramis has been making rumbling noises about retiring to become a monk in Douai.”

“Aramis, as you know, came from a religious background,” d’Artagnan reminded Louis. “His family had hoped one day that he would enter the church.”

“I suppose tis also because he’s not getting any younger either,” Louis frowned. “I shall miss him when that time comes."

“As will I,” d’Artagnan solemnly agreed. “Most like tis because I’ve worn the inseparables out,” he chuckled. “Even Porthos told me that he’s re-connected with his lady friend, Alice, and may eventually retire as well to marry her.”

“Oh this isn’t acceptable at all!” Louis complained. “Aramis and now Porthos,” he eyed Alex critically. “Do not tell me that Athos is to follow them soon? I do not like change!" he stamped his foot childishly, causing Alex to roll his eyes at him.

“ _Change_ is inevitable like the wind, Louis,” d’Artagnan placed his arm across the younger boy’s shoulders. “I believe poor Athos is holding his position til I’m old enough to take over.” He looked back to where Athos currently stood talking to Minister Treville. “You must remember that Athos has slowly been rebuilding la Fere so that he may live there again.”

“Then Athos is in for a long wait,” Louis chuckled. “You’re by far too young for the captaincy position.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Athos to stick Rene there until that time occurs,” d’Artagnan winced. “I for one know Rene has the experience and is one of the finest soldiers we have, but I also know he’s not too keen about carrying the responsibility of the entire regiment on his shoulders.”

"All this talk of my favorites getting old and leaving me has dampened my spirits," Louis commented sullenly.

"Mon ami," d'Artagnan took control this time and pushed Louis toward the young women, "now's not the time to dwell on such things." D'Artagnan leaned in closer to whisper, "Pick one and show off your dancing skills." Then he turned away and made his departure leaving Louis floundering on his own for once.

++++

_Next day, early morning - Captain de la Fere's office (we can't just call him Captain Athos)  
_

"Can I trust you three to stay out of trouble long enough to safely deliver this missive to Monsieur de Lansac?" Athos eyed each man in front of him dubiously.

Scratching at the few hairs on his chin that were trying to form a beard, d'Artagnan tilted his head studying his older brother. His hands tucked under his armpits, d'Artagnan rocked back on his heels. "Monsieur is located in Artois... correct?"

"Oui," Athos handed over the letter to d'Artagnan. "Tis only about a two days ride," he smirked. "Short enough that even you, mon garcon, couldn't get into trouble." Hearing the sounds of clapping followed by a loud snort, Athos sharp blue eyes zeroed in on a grinning Aramis. "What?" he snapped.

"You've gone and jinxed our assignment, Athos... that's what," Aramis noted d'Artagnan glaring back at him.

"Oh come on now!" d'Artagnan huffed. "I'm standing right here and I resent that implication, Aramis!"

"If the shoe fits, kid," Porthos shout of laughter had his brothers all join in, except their youngest who stood off to the side pouting.

"Just see that all of you come back in one piece," Athos threw out after them, watching them leave the room. When his door closed, Athos sat back in his chair and stared into space. Whenever he sent his brothers on a mission without him, he began to feel his age all the more. Yet whenever he was in Treville's company, Athos was in awe of the man. The minister never seemed to tire and was still going strong. Perhaps it was all those long years of hard drinking catching up with him. But after d'Artagnan had been added to their number, Athos had cut back considerably on his alcohol consumption. Helping raise d'Artagnan again, he found that it was best to limit his drinking to only one or two glasses of wine a day. It was the only way to keep up with d'Artagnan these days.

++++

_Next day still en route to Artois_

"Aramis," d'Artagnan whistled for the marksman's attention and waited until his older brother twisted his head around to look back at him, since Aramis was in the lead, "is that a new pair of boots you're wearing?"

"You noticed then?" Aramis preened for the boy's benefit.

"They were a gift from one of _pretty boy's_ ladybirds," Porthos offered with a wide grin, causing Aramis to scowl back at him.

"Ah!" d'Artagnan smiled knowingly. "I see."

"If you weren't so focused on your career you'd get perks like this too." Aramis took his feet out of his stirrups to show off his tan, leather boots and then began to softly hum to himself.

Exchanging amused looks with Porthos, d'Artagnan kept his silence on the matter concerning his lack of a love life. Instead his attention was caught by some rustling noises in the huge tree above him. Looking upward he noted movement on some of the branches and it didn't come from the various wildlife he had seen in the area. Then it hit him what it truly was. " _Aramis! Porthos!_ " d'Artagnan yelled out pointing above.

Suddenly it was like the tree had come to life, raining human bodies down on them as at least five malandrins jumped from the limbs knocking all three Musketeers from their horses.

Hitting the ground hard, all of d'Artagnan's breath felt as if it had left his lungs. Still, he managed to quickly roll over to push his attacker off of him. Getting unsteadily to his feet, d'Artagnan managed to wield his main gauche cutting the surprised malandrin on the face. After giving a swift kick to the man's privates, it bought d'Artagnan enough time to lend aid to Aramis.

"Told Athos he jinxed us, didn't I?" Aramis said between breaths as he dealt with two attackers.

"We'll complain to Athos later," d'Artagnan took one of the malandrins off Aramis' hands and managed to knock him out with the hilt of his rapier. "Porthos, need any help?"

"I'm doin' just fine, whelp," Porthos' poignard found its mark in the leg of one malandrin, while his sword took a nice chunk of skin from another's arm.

The malandrin d'Artagnan had first fought with looked like he had gotten his second wind, but as he approached his attacker d'Artagnan pulled out his pistol, motioning for the man to join his other comrades. "I wouldn't do anything funny if I were you," he warned. "Or you wouldn't like the consequences."

"Now what are we gonna do with this riffraff?" Porthos growled. "I sure n' 'ell ain't gonna turn back around."

"Paris is only a days ride away from here," d'Artagnan tried to pacify his older brother.

"Don't care none," Porthos snorted. "Wanted this mission ta be quick like."

Pushing his hat back from his head, Aramis leaned against a tree. "We should be going through another village on the way to Artois. I'm sure they'll have a jail there where we can dump them."

"So we gotta have these runts tag along with us til then?" Porthos would have rather thrown them over a ravine and been done with them.

Patting the larger man on the back in sympathy, Aramis helped d'Artagnan secure the malandrins.

++++

_Three days later, returning from Artois, nearing Paris_

Aramis had been correct, there had been a village where they were able to leave the malandrins with the local authorities. They found out that these particular men had been robbing honest folk in the area and until they had come along no one had managed to capture them before.

Once they delivered their missive to Monsieur de Lansac, and had a good meal at the local tavern, they headed for home.

"We gonna tell Athos about our little encounter?" Porthos waited for one of his brothers to say something.

"I'm not," d'Artagnan said first with a quick look at Aramis.

"Oui," Aramis nodded. "What Athos doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Anyone feel like a race?" d'Artagnan wore a devilish grin which always spelled trouble for the inseparables. Today wasn't any different as he kicked his mount into gaining speed, leaving Porthos and Aramis far behind.

"Really?" Aramis' brows shot up high. "How old is he again?"

Laughing, Porthos shook his head. "He keeps us young, Mis. I'm all for that." Then he took tearing off after the whelp.

"Oh why not," Aramis grinned. "Like old times."

And that's how the three of them entered the garrison with d'Artagnan in the lead, Porthos not too far behind and Aramis bringing up the rear.

When d'Artagnan pulled up directly in front of Athos, who was standing in the middle of the courtyard like he had been expecting them, his old friend surprised him with his words.

"Now that's a way to make an entrance."

++++

_Note:_

_Musketeer history lesson 101 again._ The real Louis XIV was born in 1638 and reigned from 1643-1715. He was indeed declared of age and had his coronation when he was sixteen in the year 1654. In 1643 when Louis XIII passed on, young Louis age four and a half began his rule because his father didn't trust Queen Anne to rule and thereby placed a regency council to rule on the child's behalf. But as we all know Queen Anne had the will annulled and claimed the regency. Louis XIV was known as Louis the great (or the Sun King) and reigned until his death at seventy two years of age.


	6. Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This had been a fun story to do and I thank my readers for asking me for a sequel.
> 
> See note at bottom.
> 
> ++++

_Alex (d'Artagnan) age twenty seven_

_Late morning, nearing noon - Royal Palace_

Having been Louis' best man at the young king's marriage to Maria Theresa of Spain, d'Artagnan couldn't help some good natured ribbing. Finally getting Louis to himself for a few minutes of private conversation, d'Artagnan pulled the younger man aside. "How does it feel to be married?"

Pursing his lips, Louis thought on it for all of two seconds and then his eyes danced with mirth. "Ask me tomorrow and I'll have a better answer for you."

Shaking his head fondly at his friend, d'Artagnan scoffed. "And you were the one who years ago got mad at me for not wanting romantic entanglements yet," he chuckled as the memory teased his mind.

With a hand in the air, Louis brought it down in a slashing motion. "What was I supposed to do, Alex? Mother was forever throwing young ladies at my feet."

"I do not believe Queen Anne _threw_ anyone at you," both of d'Artagnan's brows rose while he watched Louis' cheeks flush pink. "Even when we weren't together, mon ami, rumors ran rampant reaching my ears of your amorous adventures."

Grinning, Louis placed a hand on Alex' arm. "How should I answer that, eh, without compromising my past amours?"

"I hope for your sake they are in the _past_ ," d'Artagnan whispered for the young monarch's ears only. "Aramis used to say - _a Musketeer never kisses and tells_ ," he eyed Louis critically. "It very well may be your regiment, and you're not officially a Musketeer but I suppose that sentiment includes kings as well."

Huffing, Louis nearly resorted to his old childish behavior of sticking his tongue out. "When you're as irresistable as myself, mon frere, come seek me out for advice."

Chortling, d'Artagnan was filled with amusement. "My, you do think highly of yourself, My Lord."

"Damn it all, Alex!" Louis was a tad peeved. "You've accomplished much. Set out to do what you told me you would." While his mild rant continued, Louis tried to keep tabs on his young wife, afraid if he blinked she would disappear like so much smoke. "The position of captain is nearly in your lap now," his dark eyes still roamed around the room looking for Maria Theresa, but he couldn't help noting the roll of eyes Alex gave him. "So what holds you still back from finding your own happiness?"

"How do you know that I haven't already?" d'Artagnan countered swiftly. Tiring of this conversation he caught sight of two of the inseparables and was eager to join them.

Affronted, Louis pouted. "And you did not bother telling me? I, your best friend!" he cried in mock indignation.

Patting Louis on the back, d'Artagnan's eyes danced. "What? And give you ammunition to use against me?"

"Come now," Louis' eyes flashed impatiently, "I wouldn't do that to my very best brother."

"If it caused you much merriment," d'Artagnan laughed at the pretense of outrage that flitted across the young king's face, "oui, you would, without hesitation."

"All right," Louis new when to stop beating a dead horse. "I give up," he held up a finger, waving it in the air, "for now." Finally catching sight of Maria Theresa, Louis winked at Alex leaving his friend to his own devices.

++++

"Dieu!" Porthos bellowed from among the throng of guests crowded together in the great hall. "We've had the devil of a time gettin' near ya," he picked d'Artagnan’s lean form up clear off the ground. "It's damn glad I am ta see ya again, whelp!"

"Still with the _whelp_ , Porthos?" d'Artagnan gave him the _puppy-eyes_ that he had down to perfection.

"It never gets old, lad," Aramis chimed in, pushing past his larger friend to get to d'Artagnan's side. He grasped the younger man's shoulders and hugged him tightly. "I too have greatly missed you and have kept you in my daily prayers."

Even as his eyes misted over, it hadn't escaped d'Artagnan's notice at the attire both men wore. Wealth sat well on Porthos' broad shoulders. Having eventually married the widowed Alice a few years past after leaving the regiment, his dark-skinned brother was in the height of fashion. Aramis was the total opposite, dressed in his simple monk's garments. The marksman had retired his commission a month before Porthos to join the monastery in Douai like he had always told them he would. "When Queen Anne informed me you both responded to her invitation saying you would be coming, I can't tell you how thrilled I was."

"And miss a chance ta wine and dine with the Paris' elite," Porthos chuckled darkly. "Ya know me, boyo, I was never one ta miss a good party."

"Aramis," d'Artagnan couldn't describe the emotions filling him at having his two older brothers back with him again, "how long can you stay?"

"I was allowed special privileges to attend the wedding because I once served both kings," then Aramis lowered his voice. "That was the official story I'm telling anyone who asks," he felt quite smug. "I believe it was because the young sire and Queen Anne _insisted_." Aramis joined in the obvious amusement shared by d'Artagnan and Porthos that his words brought about. "I can stay a week only."

"Porthos what of you and Alice?" d'Artagnan was pleased that he'd have at least a week with Aramis. Lately the man's letters had been few and far between.

"Time's our own, whelp," Porthos sipped from his wine glass. "Ya might end up gettin' tired of seein' our mugs after awhile."

Slapping Porthos on the back, nearly making the older man spill his drink over his fancy suit, d'Artagnan replied sincerely. "Never!"

"Where's Athos?" Aramis tried to catch sight of their fourth brother but was unsuccessful.

"He arrived late last night from his estate in Pinon and was quite tired during Louis' wedding service. I shouldn't be at all surprised if Athos retired to his room to catch up on his lost sleep." Days earlier having news of Athos' return caused d'Artagnan many sleepless nights as his excitement grew. He had been delighted to hear that his old mentor and best friend was returning.

Oh they hadn't lost touch with one another, far from it. Many letters exchanged hands between the two of them. Athos kept d'Artagnan apprised on how the restoration of la Fere was coming along, even though it had only been a year and a half since Athos formally turned in his resignation. Pinion being not quite a three days ride journey from Paris, d'Artagnan found himself over there whenever he had ample time off. He would pitch in helping Athos in the rebuilding of his former home and they would shoot the breeze catching up with one another. Still, it wasn't the same as having Athos by his side daily to joke with, share a bottle of wine with or simply sparring in the courtyard.

"Eh," Porthos jerked his head toward the buffet table, "there's our former captain." Waving Athos over, Porthos nearly crushed the man in his arms, burying his head in his old brother's shoulder. "Sight for sore eyes is what ya are."

Returning the vigorous greeting with just as much enthusiasm, Athos blue eyes began to tear up. He didn't even get a chance to respond to Porthos' words when Athos was grabbed from behind, turned around and enfolded into another pair of strong, caring arms. "Mis," Athos whispered, and this time it was his turn to bury his face in a brother's shoulder.

Happy to just stand back and soak up this reunion, d'Artagnan felt someone slip in quietly beside him. Turning his head slightly to the left, he caught Rene observing the reunion as well. Since Athos stepped down as captain, Minister Treville had placed Rene in his old office with the understanding that _Alex_ would eventually lead the regiment when d'Artagnan added a few more years onto his young shoulders. Knowing Rene counted the days and hours until that eventuality d'Artagnan, in the meantime, was his lieutenant just like Athos had been Treville's.

"Tis a joy to see them all together again," Rene smiled at the picture the former Musketeers made. "Legends in their own time."

"Aramis tells me he'll be here a week and Porthos sounds like he won't be leaving anytime soon," d'Artagnan chuckled. "Though I think his sweet Alice may have a thing or two to say about that when the time comes." When silence greeted him d'Artagnan glanced at Rene, chancing to see an odd light in the older man's gaze directed at himself. Usually such a thing indicated d'Artagnan was in trouble. How much _trouble_ he could have gotten into while attending the king's wedding left him baffled. "Something you care to share?"

"Not for the moment, Alex," Rene started to walk away and then spun on his heels facing Alex again. "But I will be needing you later so don't leave the gala."

"With my old comrades back," d'Artagnan gave him a cocky grin, "you couldn't drag me away." Pushing aside his concern over what was behind Rene's remark, d'Artagnan stepped into the warm circle of his brothers.

++++

Leaving the inseparables to themselves for a few minutes, d'Artagnan pondered that expression again on Rene's face. He wouldn't have gotten to the position of lieutenant by being witless, hence d'Artagnan knew when things weren't quite what they appeared. Speaking of which, the inseparables acted like their old selves around d'Artagnan but there was nearly that identical look in their eyes that Rene sported. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it meant, but d'Artagnan couldn't shake the feeling off.

Once again, thinking upon Rene's cryptic delivery of needing him later, d'Artagnan was becoming all the more suspicious. Especially when he spotted his captain chatting away with Minister Treville. Nothing odd there but then d'Artagnan noted Treville staring back at him wearing a slight smirk. What was behind that d'Artagnan had no idea and was beginning to tire of trying to figure it all out.

When d'Artagnan encountered Her Majesty, while going for a drink, he found that Queen Anne acted as if she were holding a secret from him. At this rate he was about to demand some answers, but he never got the chance when suddenly King Louis took the dais and raised his hand for attention.

"First I want to thank all of you for attending not only our lovely wedding but our reception here," King Louis cheerily announced, his wife Maria Theresa by his side. "Stay as long as you like or," he laughed, "until the wine runs out," he heard quite a few guffaws at his quip.

"Secondly," Louis winked at Alex, "along with my wife's and mother's blessing, we agreed to combine events today." Reaching out his hand toward his friend, Louis motioned for him to come forward. "Alex, please approach me."

It was an order, no doubt of that, no matter how prettily it was wrapped up. Slowly d'Artagnan made his way up the dais to stand beside his king. Muttering under his breath d'Artagnan hissed, "Should I kill you now or later, sire?" As Louis drew closer to him, d'Artagnan saw a wicked gleam enter the other man's eyes.

"Much later, mon frere," Louis whispered. Pointing over to where his captain stood, King Louis crooked a finger at the soldier and waited until the officer stood alongside his childhood companion. "Alex," Louis was proud that he would be the one to do this for his best friend and brother, "Musketeer Rene de Mayenne is ready to step aside as our temporary captain so that you can officially take command of my Musketeers."

Cheers filled the hall, as a stunned d'Artagnan just stood there frozen to the spot. This was the very last thing he would have expected to occur at a wedding reception. Glaring over at the inseparables, who were raising their wine glasses to him in toast, it appeared to d'Artagnan that they were not the least bit surprised at this turn of events. Catching sight of Queen Anne's glow of happiness for him, d'Artagnan felt a slight smile tug at his lips. They were all in on it, it would seem, and as the cards were stacked against him from the beginning d'Artagnan accepted the rise in rank as graciously as he could. He had thought he would attain the captaincy a few more years from now but it would seem the powers that be had other ideas for him.

"It is with great honor that I now introduce you to everyone as Captain Alex de Birague," King Louis began to clap, along with many others gathered in the hall.

"Killing you later would be to kind," d'Artagnan snorted into Louis' ear. He just couldn't help himself and had to say that, earning a snort of laughter from the king.

"By that time, mon ami," Louis grinned mischievously, "your Gascon temper will have cooled down." Giving him a gentle shove off the dais, Louis laughed at the face Alex pulled just then. "You knew very well this was in your future and the timing for your elevation in status just so happened to coincide with my own future happiness."

With a lazy wave back at Louis, d'Artagnan jumped off the dais and walked over to his brothers. When Rene went to congratulate him, d'Artagnan huffed. "How long did you know about this?"

"Too long, Alex," Rene said. "I'm happy to simply go back to being a lieutenant again." Saluting him with a drink, Rene casually slipped away.

Seeing the inseparables gather around him, d'Artagnan latched onto Athos first. "The queen wrote this in her invitation to all of you didn't she?"

"Oui," Athos' warm gaze rested on the pup. He would forever think upon d'Artagnan as such, no matter how old the lad would become. "Was a good secret."

"The best!" Porthos agreed, just as proud as Athos was of their whelp.

"Expect all your men to know about this as well," Aramis added, amused at how silent their Gascon had become. "I believe they're planning a huge celebration in your honor later over at The Wren."

"To which we have also been invited," Athos grinned. Squeezing the back of d'Artagnan's neck, he whispered. "Know how I've looked forward to this moment, d'Artagnan," Athos chucked the younger man under the chin. "You were always meant to be _the greatest of us all_."

The End

++++

_Note:_

Another tiny history snippet. Louis XIV did indeed marry in 1660 at age of twenty two years to Maria Theresa of Spain. During their marriage they had six children but only one survived to adulthood. She passed away in 1683. He was known for having many liaisons throughout his marriage which resulted in quite a few illegitimate children to his mistresses. He supposedly was more faithful when he remarried later.


End file.
